


How I Met the Most Annoying Boy in School

by Sarcastic_Raspberry



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, light!slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 05:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarcastic_Raspberry/pseuds/Sarcastic_Raspberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John Watson gets into a fight, he goes to the principle office and meets the infamous student, Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock is known as the most annoying kid in the entire school, John in an understanding outcast and tries to get to know him better out of pure boredom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How I Met the Most Annoying Boy in School

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mila S.](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Mila+S.).



John sighed as he walked into the principal’s office, nose black and bloody as he cradled it in a tissue. It was then he laid eyes on the most annoying boy at school, Sherlock Holmes. The boy was awkward looking to say the least, long lengthy limbs flowing from the chair as John’s legs simply reached the floor.

“I’m John,” he said, fruitlessly trying to strike up a conversation. “So, what are you in for?”

“Oh, apparently my comment on Mrs. Riley’s recent divorce was inappropriate,” he said.

He should have just stopped right there. But he continued with “How did you know she was divorced?”

“Tan lines on her ring finger,” he explained, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

John waited for a small while of uncomfortable silence. He then continued to push, asking “Well? Aren’t you going to ask why I’m here?”

“Well, it’s quite obvious really. You were defending a young girl when she was getting into a fight with her boyfriend, who I’m going to say is older than you by at least three years. He landed the first blow, but then you decided to get back into it to defend, not only her, but yourself as well. The entire thing was self defense, and you feel strongly unjustified about the entire thing. But at the same time you know you can’t win an argument against this boy. Most likely, it’s the fact he’s scrawnier than you are.”

John was absolutely amazed. “How could you tell that?”

“Simple really, you still have a fresh lipstick mark on your cheek from when she thanked you. The trajectory of the blow signals the boy was taller, and most likely older, than you are. The fact that you only bear the mark of a single blow means that he had time to get it in, but the lack of others means you’re a good fighter and made sure he didn’t have time for any more. The look on your face reeks of disappointment in the intelligence of authority figures, and self-pity,” Sherlock explained, John shrugging at the end.

“Alright, fair enough. Though, there is one thing you got wrong.”

Sherlock’s pale skin tone got even whiter as his calm and cool expression turned to that of shock. His head snapped to face John, asking “What? What could I have possibly gotten wrong?”

“I did get into a fight, defending a girl named Clara. Only I was defending her from my older sister, Harriet,” he seemed to gripe to himself a bout height for a bit before adding “a real giraffe she is. I know that the school won’t have a real problem with me, it’s really my parent’s I’m worried about.”

Sherlock then put his hands over his face, leaning forward in shame as he repeated the word ‘Stupid’ to himself over and over again before sighing and leaning back in his chair with an almost shameful look on his face.

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself,” John said, rubbing a hand on the taller boy’s back. “It was marvelous it was. Why, a boy with your brain, I’m surprised so many people don’t like you in their group projects! They’d ace every time.”

“Not really,” Sherlock said, shrugging off John’s hand as he snapped up in his chair and out of his self-pity party. “You see, I only retain information I find useful. If history is doomed to repeat itself, then why don’t I see it in action? Something as small as the year of the War of 1812 doesn’t really matter to me, because when will I use it?”

“But, it’s the War of _1812_ ,” John said, wiping his nose as he noticed some blood dripping onto his sweater.

“Yes, and it’s pointless.”

“But, it’s so easy! It’s literally _in the title!_ ” John reasoned. “Just like the Luis and Clark Expedition or the French and Indian War!”

Sherlock simply shook his head, not making eye contact. “Easy, _yes_ , necessary for daily life, _absolutely_ not. Tell me, John, what interesting job involves history?”

“Well, being a history teacher?”

“I said _interesting_ , like I would want to teach snot nosed brats for hours on end, five days, _every week_.”

“Well, it wouldn’t always be snot nosed brats. I mean, we have history teachers and we’re not snot nosed brats… are we?”

“The fact that you even have to ask that should answer your question.”

John scoffed at that. “At least I know what year the War of 1812 was in,” he declared, crossing his arms.

“Isn’t your nose in pain? You seemed to be treating it with the most extreme care when you came in, but now it appears as though you find a bloody and broken nose completely normal and comfortable.”

John then realized he’d been vigorously wiping the blood off, as he hadn’t been able to earlier due to the pain the bruising brought him from the slightest touch. Looking across the room, he saw that he’d wiped it entirely clean, the small cuts and bruises the only blemish.

“I suppose I just, wasn’t focusing on the pain,” John said with a grin.

The grin soon left his face as he heard “John Watson, the principle will see you now,” and he was forced to leave the interesting boy behind him. Who knows, maybe he would talk to him some other time.

**Author's Note:**

> I decided not to continue this. Sorry! :(


End file.
